Why I Write (Scholarship Slam)

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I write because my mother does not have the time to,
working long hours six days a week
at a factory job she does not want to keep
just to make ends meet.

I write because writing saved my alcohol addicted father
when he decided he wanted to use his voice to express his bottled up emotions
instead of continuing to make the choice to drink them down with another bottle

I write because my half brother's mother,
who's suffering from brain damage,
because of the hard blow
 her car took years ago
 cannot pick up a spoon to feed herself,
 let alone a pen or pencil to sign a birthday card for her son.  

I write because my best friend is now a pregnant teen
who will now be seen as young, dumb and naive
when in fact she is an intelligent human being
with big goals and even bigger dreams.

I write because although the color of paper and ink are black and white
the words and thoughts that come from poetry have no judgment,
 no racism, no stereotypes.

I write because I care far too much about the problems of the world,
which continues to double each week faithfully,
than to have the audacity to open my mouth
and speak on what troubles me.

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